Does it ever?

Does it ever get easier?

Too many nights this month I've been up late crying, bawling, yelling in a whisper. Too many nights I've ached with missing you, knowing that you're still not here, and you're not coming back, and I don't have my mommy.

I thought, this far out, it would be easier. And it probably is - the daytime at least. But nights, when I slow down, when everything else stops there's still this ache.

I want it to stop, because it hurts so much. Monthly 17ths, and year anniversaries. Anticipatory grief of coming milestones. Memories of our last family vacation before everything changed. But I don't want it to stop, because I don't ever want to forget. I don't ever want to stop missing you.

I'm lucky, I think - you led me to a profession filled with people who care, and people who have been touched by grief. In my classes I'm not alone - so many of classmates know grief, and were led to nursing by their grief. I can share my story, and it's understood. I can cry and 34 caring people will be at my side in an instant.

I'm lucky, too, because I know that sometimes nursing isn't saving a life - sometimes nursing is about a good death. Living and dying with dignity and grace - that's what I want my work to be about.

But it's still hard. It still hurts like hell. It's still brings back painful memories to learn about brain cancer, feeding tubes, the physiological signs of death. How can I be hurting so much while caring for others in pain?

I don't know how to do this.

I miss you so much.

Does it ever get easier?